


Mountain cliffs and free birds

by Isawrites444



Series: Original writing [3]
Category: No Fandom
Genre: Gen, How Do I Tag, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Original Fiction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prose Poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 04:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30117378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isawrites444/pseuds/Isawrites444
Summary: " I ran away from home with nothing but clothes on my back, guitar on my hip, and feeling of freedom beating in my heart. I ran to the forest outside the city. I ran and ran, past the waterfall and scary caves, through fairy rings and through morning fog. I was free, free as a bird."More warnings in notes.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: Original writing [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2214756
Kudos: 1





	Mountain cliffs and free birds

**Author's Note:**

> Original writing. There are some mentions of suicide so please be careful and mindful of that. Take care of yourself Dearest. Constructive criticism is always welcome.

I dreamed that I let my hair grow out a bit longer and that I braid flowers into it. Flowers I found in the field near my house, I remember I cried as I picked them. They were the only and last thing I would take from home. I ran away from home with nothing but clothes on my back, guitar on my hip, and feeling of freedom beating in my heart. I ran to the forest outside the city. I ran and ran, past the waterfall and scary caves, through fairy rings and through morning fog. I was free, free as a bird. Somehow, sometime during my run I met a boy. A boy with rose coloured hair, soft smile, busted lip and bruised knuckles. Our clothes were dirty and torn, my guitar had scratches and his paints were nearing their end. But we did care, we were kinder spirits and as we ran through the woods laughing and singing of elves and magic and adventure I could have swore we were infinite and golden like Gods. Eventually like all things this too had to end. We reached the cliffs and you, my dear heart, my beautiful boy, took my hand and said: "jump with me, my love, perhaps we will fly". And we did. Jump and sprouted wings, red and gold, strong and powerful. Our naked forms dispersed up into the clouds. And what we left behind for that perverse moment of freedom and feeling like ethereal beings. On the edge of the cliff we left my guitar and notebook, your paint and sketchbook, some clothes, a wristwatch and a necklace. And at the bottom of the cliff we left two teenage bodies, hands outstretched, one towards the other, tear stains cheek and a mockery of a smile.


End file.
